Star Ocean: Truth of the Fallen
by Hawke Winter
Summary: After World War III, the surface is no longer suited for human life. Join our original hero in this tale based off of The Last Hope for a look into the life of a survivor. Can Eric Halberd bring himself to be a part of the USTA despite his fears?
1. A New Front

_**Updates: **Chapter 6 finished and out there. Sorry about the time jump there, but I was honestly wasn't sure where to begin with this one. Figured that instead of boring y'all with the details, I'd just reminisce at certain points and have the meat of things actually written out. Still looking for some ideas as far as where I'm going to take the storyline after the initial launch of the SRF ships and if I should just skip 10 years and call it SD 10; take the story from there.  
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**Timeline:** The years before 1 SD (2087); later to go into SD 10 (where the main story of The Last Hope comes in).

**Preface/Author's Note/Thoughts: **My First submission. I've balanced the idea of writing an original piece for SO4 for some time after making a successful play-through, so here it is. Instead of using only the main canon from the series I instead use my own brand to introduce a concept of: "from the outside; looking in". Hopefully this concept isn't forbade on a site so seemingly dedicated to using only main characters in a series, but if it's an unwanted piece then let me know and I'll try it again. I appreciate any support I can get and I like to know where I stand, so please, if you feel there's something that needs be said, let me know about it. Criticism properly stated can make this better.

For now, we follow a man by the name of Eric Halberd (original character): a survivor of World War III. It's essentially a hellish place in the underground and this craftsman is forced to carve a living out of what he has. It's the same-old-same-old for some time until a certain red-haired beauty makes an appearance; thus changing his life forever.

As a disclaimer: I do not own the storyline, history or characters of Star Ocean: The Last Hope, nor do I intend to use the license to profit from them. All credit goes to tri-ACE/Square-Enix.

Without further interruption I present to you: Star Ocean: Truth of the Fallen!

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Hopes and dreams are the two elements that make up humanity. With our desire to venture forth and discover new things in a number of fields, we never seem satisfied with what's before us and proceed forever forward with reckless abandon. Any intention of stopping just means quitting what it means to be human and any efforts barring our intents are met with severe—final—punishment. This is at least how I witnessed things before and even after this war—World War III.

It's the year…aw hell! Who even cares anymore? Too many things have changed too recently for me to keep track of luxuries like time. I've been cramped in this hellhole we used to call a planet; under the surface thanks to the brass that thought it was a brilliant plan to unleash our tactical nukes on whoever launched theirs at us. Hell, I might've been killed when they finally fell, but I would've at least liked to know a part of the planet still held some form of life. Instead, it's all in ruins and those without at least some formal military experience have been shoved into little holes in the ground to escape radiation. Some were lucky—or unlucky—enough to have some kind of surface life through Biodomes, though I doubt what it looks like up there is any prettier than what we've got to look at down here.

That's right! Earth's gone and we aren't! Figure that one out. Can't complain too much for being alive after the entire surface had been irradiated though, so I suppose I'll just take what I can get for now. May have been better in death since I've lost too many dear to me, but this is probably one of those signs that I'd be better off alive. It's been a sad life since then, being completely alone in these dark, cramped spaces with hundreds of other people; numbers growing daily even still. Yeah, more of us made it out than I had thought, but none of them are worth mentioning. I had one group of friends that I had grown up with and each of them, whether immediately or right after the "incident," had perished. Steve, Ricardo, Keichii, Jeff, Viola, Francois;—Maria: my dearest blow.

We weren't many, but these were my dearest friends and Maria; I didn't even get to tell her that I loved her. Before my very eyes she went away from me; those words still unsaid. I was the only one by her deathbed; the other five of them already perished. Irradiation took long and sure to remove her from life. Her sheer cries of terror, of pain; of death… hath life no mercy!? I bore through it all for her sake, grabbing hold of what medicines, aids, ointments and any sort of medical help I could get but the cancer…it was far too quick to be stopped. I hadn't the money to afford a treatment at the time since every center had been moved into tunnels and insurance was out of the question. The agony of it all…and she still found strength to forgive—no—thank me.

The last time we spoke, I tried to tell her with every ounce of my existence that I had wanted to share a part of my life with her; that I wanted to be there for her always and live with her through the best and worst times. The only phrase I can recollect telling her is "I'm…" before she placed her index finger over my lips. She couldn't talk, but I, more than anyone else in the world, understood her. I was the only one who could.

"Be happy," she mouthed, eyes slowly sinking into tears. There was still a fire alight in them, but I noticed even that slowly fade away. She knew it was her time, and despite my frantic actions to place a breathing apparatus on her precious mouth, she stopped my hand with her own with any strength she had left and gingerly shook her head. There was a light tug on my hand as I dropped the device. I think I finally and completely understood. With the most care and kindness I could muster, I placed my shoulder upon her chest, head next to hers and arms around her failing body. For the last time, I felt her hand perform a gentle brush across the back of my head as the rest of her clung to me for the last moments they had left. Her warmth began to wane and I felt her muscles finally begin to relax. It was the saddest, yet most comforting moment in my entire life and, though I've lost friends and family before, prepared me to live what future I had left as well.

"Be happy," she gave the order. Though she wanted this for me, all I ever wanted was for her to be happy. If her final wish was for me to be happy, then I that's what I'd do; more for her sake than my own. Her sprit would haunt the heck out of me if she knew just how miserable it was here, though again I knew I should be thankful to be alive. It would just be up to me now to find this new beginning since the Earth had already spent its remaining bastions and has succumbed to the overpowering radiation. I'm the only one left of us seven, and I plan on making that future I know we had all wanted. I won't be able to have those that I've grown up with, but I'll be damned if I don't do something soon.


	2. Renewal

It's been four years since that hellish day, which makes me about twenty now. Since then there hasn't been much that I've done despite that declaration. Maria's birthday would be coming up soon and I have nothing to show for it again this year. All I've managed is to scrape out some sort of living offering a hand here or there just to put some food on my table. There was this young lad though that seemed to be interested in some of the crafts I had with me at the time, though they were merely relics of a life long passed.

He would come to see me in this apartment of a place, if one can call some doors attached to a dug-out hole an apartment. There wasn't much to see here other than the things I've made out of various scraps to amuse myself, since not but some blankets were on the concrete floor and a single bulb overhead to light the room were there. The tools I had used sat in one corner of the room, closer to where my "bed" lay, while some models of various ship designs, robots, starship designs, and a manner of other unique man-made craft sat on the other side of the room. It's not like I had them on display; rather they were just a part of this room as I made more and more of them. It had crossed my mind to sell the things, but nobody would have been interested in these scraps that I've taken from various sources. Some metal while others were made of paper or plastic, and none of them truly meshed well together with their mediums. I don't know what the kid saw in them.

He asked me one day to teach him, the red-haired lad, and I actually said yes. For some reason he made me think of myself at that age, perhaps about four or so, and maybe that's what made me agree. Perhaps the will of Maria was there with me. Perhaps it was just the specters of my friends to persuade me to move on with this, but day in and day out I never once thought to stop. He would always show up at my door around the same time of day it felt. Never once did I ask for any money in exchange. He seemed delighted in what I did and I showed him precisely how to use my knowledge and tools. To this day he even progressed far beyond what I was able to attain.

Oddly enough, a lady who seemed in her twenties came by my hole and asked to see the person that had been teaching her son such a "unique" craft, as she called it. She had on her head the very same style of hair that Maria enjoyed to sport herself; a long and straight style that allowed each fiber the freedom to move wherever it felt. It reached about to her ankles just by a quick glance, which was rather surprising since she stood at about my very same height. It was red and flared brighter than even her son's, if this was truly the mother of my pupil. Her eyes met mine for a moment and I couldn't help myself but long to see what was behind the emerald surface. I wanted to know this gorgeous woman, but this would have to wait.

"Aye, If your son is Ren," I said, still having my left arm attached to the door only half-opened. Couldn't be too sure nowadays if someone wants to kill you and rob you of more than just your life or genuinely want to talk.

"He is, and he gave this to me today." She removed an object from a pouch she had at her side that resembled one of my own works from years ago; a figure that looked exactly like my beloved. I knew that the kid was good, but I hadn't a clue he had produced something like this. I turned back for a moment to check the one piece of work I've always kept by my bedside—which Maria was indeed still there. Looking back to the fiery-haired woman, I tried to find a next line to say. She didn't make it easy, but spoke first.

"I wanted to find the person that finally gave my son a dream," she said, clinging to her precious gift with both hands and bosom; looking to me as if I had suddenly become a god. I wasn't sure whether or not to hug her to keep her from tearing up, let her in, or just laugh it off and say it wasn't a problem. Again she made the decision to act first, but made things that much more difficult to respond to.

I found myself with a new face buried into my chest, but it wasn't for the right reasons. I had to slip both of my hands under her arms to keep this woman from falling any further after she tripped on the base of the door. She hadn't been the first to make that mistake, but was the first to fully lose balance. I couldn't help but laugh a little as she tried to regain what composure she had, though we were both on the floor. If I hadn't been there, she probably would've ended up face-first into my concrete floor rather than my chest. My, did she look embarrassed at this point! Her cheeks started to have the same hue as her hair and the look that she had on her face was more than priceless. Something of a mix between a prideful "I'll kill you if you say a word," and "I'm glad you were there to catch me."

This time, I was the one to speak first—after of course letting out a short burst of half-hearted laughter. "You haven't been the first to trip over that thing." Looking into her eyes, I again wondered what I could find behind them. It's almost like she reminded me of Maria, but I know no one could ever fill that gap in my lifetime. Though I was only a teenager that moment, she was the one I felt like I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. She's gone now, but that won't stop me from still loving her.

"Th-thanks…" she spoke; head immediately tilted towards the heartless floor. The hair of fire itself covered what little I could've seen of her face, though I didn't need to see in order to understand. My right hand found her slender shoulder on its own accord; acting on its own will to comfort her. What I thought should be happiness was only met in tears as her hands let the figure fall to the floor to further conceal her inner torment. There was no shatter to be heard, but only a gentle tear.


	3. Chance Encounter?

It took a moment, but the woman with hair ablaze calmed down enough to speak again. Even in my younger days, which now felt like more than an eternity ago, there hasn't been a person to break down in front of me like this. Whatever I had said or done, it apparently impacted more than just the kid. I had an uneasy feeling I was about to find out some kind of truth I'd more than likely regret hearing.

"Sorry…" she left her sentence trailing in the past. I wasn't quite sure why she was sorry about showing her true self to me, but I just let that slide and gave her a reassuring look anyways. We were both sitting in the middle of my concrete floor, though I managed to slip the sheets I used as a bed beneath us to get some form of comfort. She didn't seem to mind either way since we both managed to get past my doorway. I saw her hand wipe away one more tear that softly fell before regaining some composure.

"I'm Vivian Allemure," she began to speak again; extending her right hand to me. I gladly took her hand into my own and felt the ice neatly melt away. She did have a cold hand, I'd give her that. "I wanted to say thanks for teaching my son something he's so passionate in."

In all honesty, it was nothing to teach the kid anything; especially since I had almost nothing else to do with my days now. I already had what food I needed stored in the small ice box I kept neatly by my tools and no work would drift my way for probably a while. I didn't see a problem with teaching something I had a great knowledge in. After letting go of her slender hand, I noticed her look about the models of various things I had stored in the other side of the room. I was almost appalled she hasn't complained about the mess of things in here yet.

"It's no problem at all!" I gave a cheery façade, following up the exclamation with a small chuckle. "He's been a good boy and has helped me out a bit too. Don't think I would've been able to get the right feel on some of these if he hadn't let me know how he felt about 'em. He's even done a few himself as you've seen, though I wasn't sure if I should've let him use my soldering iron or not…"

It was at least my best try at normal speech, despite the odd circumstances that have occurred recently. She seemed entertained by it at least—well, that or the small model of an old battleship she was currently trying to study. She looked back at me after I was finished and replaced the metallic piece back on the ground.

"It does a boy well to get burned and learn from it." Her comment was almost too nonchalant as she brushed some unseen object off of her shoulder. I think for the first time I actually paid some attention to what she wore. It was a simple enough design; a business sort of dress and skirt—something you'd perhaps see a newscaster wear or a garb you'd wear to a formal dinner setting. It was red like the ruby her hair resembled and carried with it some air of purpose. Perhaps it was just a male thing, but I never gave that much thought into what someone preferred to dress as until now. Maybe I did grow a little…

"True enough. Can't tell you how many lessons I've had to painstakingly push through," I replied. It was odd how a person can go from downright crying to being completely jovial over a nearly meaningless conversation, but Vivian didn't seem the sort to be sad for long; at least not from what I could tell of her now.

"This is the first time Renault has expressed any interest in anything, and I'm just glad he had someone to teach him—to guide him. I've…failed many times before now to get him to be more social or get him to at least like school. I almost have to just kick him out the door every morning some days, but since he's been leaving for here, well, I feel that he's changed quite a bit." She held up her personal figure of herself, basking in the life given to it by my pupil, and then looked back to me. Perhaps I did speak too soon about the jovial, meaningless conversation bit, but at least I know what was on her mind earlier.

"Since he came to me a few weeks back, I wasn't sure about him, but I did know that he liked to do this kind of work. In fact it seemed like the only thing he'd want to do in the world. I just gave him the tools and tips of the trade and he set off to make his own destiny. Just needed a little push I suppose."

Vivian nodded her head in agreement and glanced yet again to the various objects I had created—seemed like she had a soft spot for handcrafts. "I really like the work that you do and the things that you have shown my son how to make. I'm just really sorry it took me so long to find out where he was going. If I would have known sooner I would've came by and at least introduced myself…"

She seemed to be getting herself down again—flighty woman, this is. I asked if she would like to go someplace else; perhaps the nearby café, or what one would call a "café" now. She just looked at me, nodded, and then I helped her up.


	4. Beyond Reality

Earth—our one and only home has experienced an event that has rendered all that people once knew moot and history, as much of a useless subject as it is now, will never get the chance to repeat itself again. The weapons that we had created to protect ourselves ended up being our undoing and the only one to blame is still ourselves. It was our desire, no, greed that has progressed through a past eternity of conflict only to end less than a century ago. We should not be alive, those of us that miraculously survived, and yet here we still stand—that final mistake constantly looming over our heads.

I can't say whose fault it was in the end, but no single person couldn't be blamed for the outcome. Our ways are parasitic. We take what we can get for as little effort as possible and when someone tries to step into our territory or even provoke some manner of aggression we act. We act and eliminate with the utmost prejudice and with any and all means necessary—pacts be damned! Whatever treaties that developed were only convenient at the time and now…now it doesn't even matter. All I know is that there are still some bases of operation far off in the distance that some unknown body of government runs—unknown to me at least.

"Your coffee, sir." My mind snapped back to reality as a tarnished saucer and cup made themselves apparent in front of me. Must've been pretty out of it to not notice the waitress return, but she pretty well slinked right back into the kitchen as quickly as she appeared from it. The brew was strong indeed, but that's how I preferred things as I took the first of many bitter sips to come.

"So, you say that your son attends the local military school, did you?" It must have been silent for some time at this café. Once I spoke Vivian seemed to jump a little, though she tried to cover it by brushing some unknown object off of her skirt. She took her mind away from the menu for the moment in an attempt to formulate some reply I had assumed. Didn't realize that question was strange enough as to require such thought.

"It's only for his own well-being," she said in reply. It wasn't like I was accusing her of making some wrong decision. I knew there was a government and a military still; just wasn't sure by what it was titled or its current objectives. For that fact I don't even know what the alliances are anymore, if there are any at all.

"I trust your judgment," I said to her "It's not as if it's a wrong decision. Our wars have already burned themselves out and I seriously doubt anything else can start up. Not like one piece of land or resource is better than another anymore."

She looked a little puzzled for a moment, but that didn't last long as she absorbed what I had said. True, if any single person still existed somewhere, they'd exist under the earth where it doesn't matter so much as to who has what. Some scientists a while back were able to establish various connection lines between "colonies" of underground cities and even have progressed as far as making tunnel systems, but there would be no reason to fight over anything anyone else had at this point. There were of course the hostile activities by small gangs for money or for "turf," but even that was a façade for just killing time while killing each other for kicks. I had been in a scuffle or two over my wallet, but the amount in it was so small that I had always just showed them that and they'd either throw a misaimed punch at me or just walk away. It was never anything large-scale like a war between nations.

"That's true. Money isn't even what it used to be anymore. It still has value, but people now would always rather trade for something of practical use. Gold and silver kinda don't exist, but pockets still have been known to be found here and there." She seemed to know the general things about our situation and made whatever conclusion she was looking for. It eased some tension I could tell was on her mind.

"Say, have you heard much about the USTA?" The question was sudden and rather unexpected. She glanced up from her menu again to look at me and honestly I wasn't sure what look to even have on my face.

"USTA?" I questioned in return "Can't say I've heard of it." Vivian withdrew a pamphlet of sorts from her purse that rested by the salt and pepper containers next to the wall. It's sad there wasn't a window there like in the diners or cafés I had been to before, but even still if there were I knew I wouldn't be able to see a thing. It was all appropriated by mathematics to conserve space and prevent giant falling masses from the "sky", so there would have been just one more building in front of the window; probably some office or something.

She handed me a fold-up that had ample decoration to it and the fanciest thing was the title: "USTA: Universal Science and Technology Administration." I had never heard of it in my life, though once I had read a bit beyond the title, I already knew what direction this was going to take.

"So, we're at it again…" I knew that it wouldn't be long until our greed again grabs hold of the remainder of humanity, but I didn't realize that we even had the possibility to progress this far. Space, even years ago before the war, looked to be a near-future possibility, but there were still calculations that could not be accomplished with our current level of technology. I knew this as a commoner and person that dabbled into astrological sciences, but the figures that I was looking at on this small sheet of paper were appalling. There had been some breakthrough in mathematics and invention to allow the possibility of FTL travel! This…this is ridiculous, but the information seemed legit. I doubted that Vivian would just throw this on some piece of paper but how…how did she obtain this!?

"H-how…when!?" To add emphasis to the fact I was reading intensely now, I placed my index finger over each word as I read it. It helped me to concentrate at least and what was being said surely wasn't a joke. A man, Trillas Bachtein as it were, had plans to advance space vessel propulsion to speeds faster than that of light, or FTL travel, by using a process referred to as "worm holes", which was a term used for some time now. I knew we had made some progress in that field in the thought of space and time being roughly the same thing and compressing this dimension, or dimensions, itself/themselves in order to travel vast distances in no time flat—I just didn't know that we already had some technology that could possibly do that. The experiment itself wasn't slated for another few years as it states later on, but still, to imagine the possibilities of space and the fact that it can finally become a reality… Our greed to expand knows no bounds and this would make it that much easier, but those facts didn't seem to matter so much to me at the moment.


	5. The Worth of a Good Coffee

"I have to say, it's odd seeing this paper coming from you," I said to Vivian. She seemed more of the sort to just believe the local gossip about things than actually be a part of a large organization dedicated to sending humans to space. It really is weird coincidence that she would present this to me—21 years after The War; though in retrospect I suppose in 20 years humanity could accomplish a lot. There's no telling what sort of mysterious underground bases were constructed in the past or what other secrets the government was hiding from us. Hell, I doubt I'd be surprised if we had a Moon Base or something similar already.

"Lil' old me?" she taunted, holding her right hand over her chest as if to further the effect. "Hi, I'd like to reintroduce myself as Lieutenant Allemure: USTA Recruiter and Public Relations." Her hand again reached out and I, the same as before, placed my hand into hers. The same cold came across, though I could blame the drink on that. That came as somewhat a surprise, though now I think I understood why she was looking so intently at my creations. Not sure what good a craftsman like me could be for an organization like that, however. Something didn't seem quite right.

"So, earlier was pretty much an act?" I questioned, reasoning with loyalty at this point rather than deal with the information supplied to me.

"Pretty much, though Renault really is my son. He just happened to come across you and take to the craft. He isn't struggling to stay in school as much as I had said, but he still has some motivation issues. It really has been a great help for you to take care of him in your spare time and I'm happy he found something he liked after this long." Vivian grasped her glass of water and downed it in a single gulp, placing it back where it belonged with the sigh of a champion besting their kill. If it had been something else other than water, I might have been impressed.

"You tell this all to me now…so…am I to assume you'd like me to join the USTA?" My question was simple. The face she made at me became far more serious than I had witnessed it thus far, so I think I hit the nerve I needed to. Have to keep my cool and not make a rash decision…

"Frankly, yes. I'm sure you have some background since you've made the ships and designs as you have." Her gaze remained on mine, though this time it was my turn to break that stare. I looked down to my coffee once more and took the umpteen millionth sip to gain what time of thought I could. A part of me wanted to but the other part was slightly different.

"I can't." My reply remained on air thicker than the darkness my coffee contained. I heard a ruffle in the seat in front of me and the sound of heels clacker on the floor until they reached the edge of the very seat I chose. I couldn't quite look back at her yet, my resolve wavering slightly, but the one thought that prevented me from screaming "yes" surfaced higher and higher still. "Not after…"

A tender obstacle placed itself in my way; effectively preventing me from speaking the words of the dead. Time itself stopped in my world as my mind travelled forth into an alternate dimension; trekking into the past that I had tried to leave long behind me. Maria…you had done the same thing to me then too, didn't you? Though they were the words I felt like I needed to speak above all else, you simply wanted me to remain with you. Did you feel those words would have made you sad? No…I'm sure you would have been happy to hear them after all the times we had spent looking into what existed beyond our sky. The stars and what remained in the heavens would comfort us in our times of need and you'd always comment how you'd like to one day be taken away from this mundane life; to live and breathe with the stars far past Earth's atmosphere. Was that my answer?

Reality came back after the moment that lasted for all eternity, and I believe I had breathed once more. Vivian took a step back after removing her finger from upon my lips—seemed almost as spooked as I was at the moment. After catching one more breath of air in the true reality I looked back to Vivian, who was now standing at the edge of the table. The look on her face still had the hint of surprise in it, so I decided then was the best time to go ahead and say it.

"I will, Maria."

She looked at me with eyes of a person recently beat at their own game, yet mixed in with confused emotions over being called the wrong name entirely. I knew she wasn't Maria, but Maria was the one that apparently wanted me to go forth with this. It was her idea back then, anyways, and this was just the medium I'd need to make her true dream come true. I'd be happy and her spirit could perhaps be put to rest.

Vivian retook her seat across from me and glanced at her now-empty glass of water instead of commenting on what had just happened. Perhaps that was for the better. There would be no way I could explain the thought processes that made up my mind just a moment ago. Even if I could explain I doubt she would've understood each bit.

"So, how do I sign up?" I tried to cover up the minute in the past with this, and it seemed to work. Vivian produced a clipboard from her purse and began to write a few things down, then handed me what she couldn't finish herself. Simple contact info was all she required, well, that and some dates of birth, family and such like that. Those parts were rather simple to fill in since I had no remaining family after the war and my birth date was seven years before the war. It's odd how much one can hate something so much and yet use it as an anchor for memories as well.

"I'm not quite sure I understood what just happened, but thanks, Eric," Vivian finally spoke after I finished the last sheet of paper she handed me. "You'd make a truly great asset to our team that we have in the making; especially since you're one of the few still interested in space now. Most have given up all hope of just returning to the surface, much less of exploration into realms unknown."

"I know," I replied "it's the only place we'd have left to go since our surface is crap. I can't say that I fully trust something like the USTA; especially after The War, but I'll give it a shot for the future of mankind. What did you need me for, anyways?"

"Simply because you've some talent with craft design and have the motivation to continue with just that. Today hasn't been the only time I've seen you. In fact I've been looking into you for some time, as odd as that sounds…sorry" She added that part in as an afterthought.

"You were doing work for your organization," I shrugged her comment off "plus it's not like I hide anything. Everything I have, secrets included, are buried in the figures I create; left for interpretation of meaning."

"Noble," she commented as our waitress came and refilled our drinks. "The only types I see now are unmotivated cave workers, scum in the streets or your store vendors. Not many business people or philosophers anymore. That's probably why I thought of spending the time to research if I should add you to our team or not. We are rather large; despite my calling us just a 'team,' you know?"

"How large are we talking about? Are you almost like a modern-day military group?"

"More or less. We do have a moon base."

Why was I surprised? "Wh-when!?...." I shook my head. Twenty years in the dark and we've already got a moon base!? I heard about projects for it long ago but to think that the nuclear holocaust didn't even visibly effect space exploration…?

"About fifty years ago. The government wanted to keep it a military secret, so the general public didn't find out about it until roughly fifteen years ago. Yeah, as odd as it sounds the families of moon base members began to actually move into the base. Others followed suit in certain underground colonies and the USTA has made some considerable progress since then. The only reason why we haven't moved most of the population to the moon base is because of the restrictions to those of military background in order to keep the count in check."

That was a lot to absorb, but it made sense. Vivian would have no reason to lie to me, so I'd believe her now. Looks like humanity still has a long way to go, but this is a hell of a better start than what I had thought before, which wasn't any start at all.

"So, what do I do now?" I asked after taking a moment to collect my thoughts. Heck, I had a feeling it was about to have even more knowledge shoved into it anyways; might as well just grab as much of it as I can while I still had some capacity left.

"Follow me," she said whilst making her way out of the booth; purse in tow. I followed her lead after leaving a tip on the table and enough to cover the coffee. I did feel somewhat sorry for the small café for not ordering anything more and probably taking up an hour of their time, but the waitress was indeed pretty bad. Just had to think that and my conscience would be clear.


	6. Metallurgy

Of all people I was the one chosen. It wasn't a grunt in the military or a truly brilliant scientist, but it was me: a handcraft creator and sub-par designer. Never have I trusted the government since I was one of the few that survived the nuclear winter, the nuclear holocaust; the end of the world—little did I expect to trust such a related organization now. Just goes to show those years in solitude with only my hands, a good soldering iron and bits of scrap did have an impact. Heck, I think that anyone would change after that. Not a psychologist's opinion on the matter, but it happened, so I won't complain.

I was to be a lead designer for a new brand of ship they were coming up with to literally send humans to colonize the outer reaches of space. I couldn't begin to think of how we were going to accomplish that, though when Vivian had shown me that piece of paper a year before I suppose that small twinge of hope kept me going—kept me on track. Here I stand before a problem that has only popped up every once in a while, though in this case it's for a completely unheard of concept. Warp travel would be hell, and I'd like to know that we can live through it.

Man has always been able to come up with something either last-minute or on the fly to solve the most complicated of issues at least rudimentarily. In an entire series of circumstances only is this idea perfected. Can't swim across the ocean? Build a ship. Can't withstand the deep currents? Throw on some more planks. Can't get a ship to get there fast? Toss on an engine. Can't withstand any sort of ordinance? Make it out of iron. The list goes on and on about our fixes to problems never once thought about. Flight was our crowning achievement I do believe, and in this case we're done with just that and we move onto the next step. This next step is where not only my own mind, but the mind of every scientist well enough to perform basic astrophysics comes into play. We have math on our side, the equipment to accomplish what we may need and the will to go on despite our downfall. If I would've known about this years ago…well, maybe I wouldn't have joined since I was really choked up about Maria at the time—still am—but I would have at least considered taking part in man's finest hour since the first moon landing. Don't like governments, but this isn't quite the institution I had envisioned.

The government of the past was something to challenge, some unknown entity to question and some sort of political body there to ruin your life or tell you how to ruin your life faster. This is at least what I understood of it from the small history lessons I had received from the barkeep I'd always talk to. She was a good lass, albeit a bit insane at times. This form of politics had me a bit more at ease, if I could say that. Upon my inception into the USTA (the Universal Science and Technology Administration), the Greater UN just gave me a few simple guidelines to follow—enough to let me know who signed the checks—and went on their way.

Work was smooth. Though I was signed on as a part of the Research and Development lot, I found myself spending most of my time looking over old ship designs and comparing them to the creations I had made. No one complained since I was designated project design head. Heck, I just might have already made a warp-worthy design for as much as they knew. Though the real reasons were rather conceited, I had hoped to also find something useful for the preservation of mankind. Interestingly enough, I did.

A man of few words, Trillas Bachtein happened across my office one day as I was scouring through a book of old World War II relics and pointed out that the ship on my desk had a striking similarity to one of the current pages I was on.

"It's the USS Arkansas, one of the most resilient goddamn ships I've ever seen," I told him. "Lasted two wars and was only sunk towards the end of the second. I had a fascination for the old ships even as a kid, you see, and this was one of my favorites."

"Fascinating," he said to me as he moved over to my side of the desk. "I suppose you're looking for something of use from the past hundred years?"

"Perhaps…" I left my comment trail off for a moment as I reasoned with logic. I've only spoken with this man once before and that was just a formal greeting to introduce me to the team. There was probably some reason he needed to see me other than comment on my small-time crafts.

"Ah yes, it is hard to say, isn't it? Ideas will always come from the most peculiar of places." He spoke with a hint of experience there it seemed, though it wasn't an idea that was completely unfamiliar to me.

"True enough," I stated as I shut the book and looked up to the man. "So, what can I do for you Mr. Bachtein?" Hopefully my voice wasn't as aggressive as I had thought.

"Please, it's just Trillas, but I believe that it's about time we ran a true test of our current ship. I've ran through almost all possible scenarios involving warp travel and I believe we're as ready as can be. Though we've only tested the drive core itself in unmanned craft, Steven Kenny has volunteered to go on with a manned test. The rest of the crew has already worked out the complications with the interior, but I figured it would be best to check with you about the exterior designs; see what you have to improve on our current design."

That was the most I've ever heard him speak at once, though he had good reason to explain all of that. In all honesty I saw nothing entirely wrong with the ship's overall design after looking over it for the first day. The only difference in the manned and unmanned versions was honestly the cockpit. One version held essentially a radio control placement while the other had a similar design to a post-WW II fighter jet cockpit. Choice of the pilot I had assumed. It was impossible to reach the test craft while it was in warp since it was literally traveling faster than light, but once it was out it took a while but we could send commands back to it and get it home. This first manned test would be momentous if all things worked out well.

"There's nothing more that I can do," I said to him with the utmost in confidence "Until we unlock the secrets of mithril, I doubt we can make the ride any less dangerous." He let out a slight laugh at that. "Have the most advanced product of our metallic engineering and we have our most brilliant scientist behind the engine. I don't think things could get much better."

"Good. We'll finalize things and get set for our first jump."

I felt like an idiot. I honestly did. They chose me to assist this brilliant man with the forefront of our future and I have nothing to offer. Not really sure why they let me even in on this project, but maybe they had figured I could make better what is already the best design for an aircraft—or rather spacecraft—that I have ever seen. What little I understood of the subject suggested that the traditional curved design for aerodynamics would suffice for warp travel, which is that it could withstand the abnormal attributes associated with warp travel. The metals used could hold out against extreme pressure and the way they are layered suggests that whoever came up with the design first had been in the industry for too many years to be legal. There wasn't any way I could compete with that or make it even better.

"Well, good day Mr. Halberd," Trillas bode me farewell as he went through my office door; giving it a light closure. I suppose that he figured it would disturb me if he shut it normally, but it didn't really matter. Even if he slammed the door it wouldn't change the fact that I have done nothing for this project except exist and get paid for research I've deemed useless. No one else seemed to care though, so I suppose that was it. I gathered the various books on my desk and made my way back to the library of the base.

The feeling was still odd: looking up and seeing the Earth—still beautiful even though it was flooded with so much radiation. It's almost like The War had never changed it; never happened. The oceans were still a radiant blue and the land a vibrant mix of greens and browns. Clouds still danced about in their swirling motions and it still rotated with such elegance that, to me, humanity really hasn't died. Though I was essentially on my own in a little hell-hole in the confines of the planet, I was alive with a million other people. I just chose to ignore what was around me and exist for the purpose that I called my own—no rules, no worries; only me and my creations.

That was some time ago since I was back on that planet. It hasn't felt like long at all though. My old man was right when he said the years would start turning into weeks. It was almost a year since Vivian had given me that letter and I was introduced into the USTA and I've already been on one shuttle to where I am now. It's been six months since I've arrived and the year was already almost up according to the current calendar. Still haven't quite gotten used to the whole "being on the moon" concept, but I figured that would simply come with time. The library wasn't far from my office so I turned in what I had borrowed, gave the clerk a small nod and went on my way to the recreation room. Figured it was about time I hit the treadmill…

* * *

_**Updates: **Chapter 6 finished and out there. Sorry about the time jump there, but I was honestly wasn't sure where to begin with this one. Figured that instead of boring y'all with the details, I'd just reminisce at certain points and have the meat of things actually written out. Still looking for some ideas as far as where I'm going to take the storyline after the initial launch of the SRF ships and if I should just skip 10 years and call it SD 10; take the story from there._


End file.
